The Dagger
by the.deathly.silent
Summary: After 5x11. "This dagger," she whispered, her gaze fraught with perverse enjoyment, "has been bound to your magic. With it, I can make you do anything I like." Merlin finds himself under Morgana's control. Eventual reveal
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own Merlin, or the whole dagger idea. It's basically just the Dark One curse from Once Upon a Time._

* * *

 **PART ONE**

Morgana held the dagger in her hands, practically trembling with excitement. This was it; the beginning of the end. The start of a new era, a new reign of Camelot.

Her reign.

She ran a finger over the name engraved on the blade.

 _Emrys_.

She grinned. Prophecy said he was to be her doom. But she would change fate. Instead, Emrys would be the key to her victory.

Holding the blade out at arm's length before her, Morgana relished the following words. " _Ic abeodan bé, Emrys_!"

He would come to her, and together they would bring Camelot to its knees.

* * *

Merlin could usually feel when something was about to go wrong. He was at the center of so many disasters that, he supposed, he just could recognize the signs.

Something was definitely going to happen. It would be soon, and it would not be pretty.

Merlin dreaded what it would be. Destiny was upon them, and could happen in so many ways. Mordred had joined Morgana, and surely told her of his true identity. The witch would never let that information go to waste. She would strike, and soon. All because Merlin could not bring himself to trust Mordred.

He had heard of self-fulfilling prophecies, and supposed this could turn into one. Perhaps it already had. Mordred had never been a threat to Arthur in Camelot. Not until Merlin had allowed Kara to be killed.

Kara, despite all of the differences between them, reminded him of Freya. Mordred had unwittingly found himself in the same position as Merlin had several years ago, in loving an enemy of Camelot. Both women had paid the ultimate price for their crimes against the kingdom. Only Merlin's loyalty could withstand the blow.

Merlin had always disliked Mordred. He distrusted him for acts he had yet to do. Acts that were now sure to come to pass. Acts that likely would never happen if Merlin had taken a chance.

Merlin pushed away his guilt. It was too late for that; lingering in the past would do nothing but hinder his ability to deal with the future. It was bound to be terrible, and distracting thoughts would do him no favors.

Shaking his head and blinking away his dreary thoughts, Merlin adjusted his grip on the shirt he was scrubbing.

Merlin was perfectly happy to focus on the monotony of the task at hand. He didn't much want to think about his past failures. His blue eyes focused intently on the soapy water that sloshed at his every movement. The front of his shirt was already soaked.

A sharp tug at his mind made him stop. _Come here_ , it whispered. _Come to me. I command it_.

There were other servants washing their masters' laundry here. He knew he shouldn't. But for some reason, that didn't matter. He needed to go to this person. And somehow, he knew exactly where to go.

His eyes glowed that forbidden gold, and the laundry room disappeared.

And then Morgana appeared in its place.

"Hello, Emrys," she hissed. She held a dagger before her, awkwardly and at arm's length. Merlin let his eyes dart side to side quickly, before settling on her. They were in a castle, however old and broken it appeared to be. Morgana's hidden fortress.

So Mordred did tell her. Merlin had been expecting it, but still found himself disappointed. The anonymity of Emrys had been such an advantage.

Merlin forced himself to focus at the issue at hand. Somehow, Morgana had summoned him here. He knew she was powerful – she was, after all, a High Priestess of the Old Religion – but the sort of power he felt in that single tug was not her own. She had help.

She was also unafraid. What had happened to the fearful witch in the woods, who ran at the sight of an old man, all because of a name?

A name she could now without a doubt pin on Merlin. And the first thing she did with that information was summon him? She knew of his power, and of the part he would play in her end. Why would she go to all this trouble, when for all she knew it would just bring about her death all the faster?

Not that Merlin was complaining, it it was indeed going to end that way. He was tired of Morgana, and of the nuisance she had become.

"Morgana," Merlin returned, appropriately wary. It didn't take a genius to realize something very wrong was going on here.

"I've been waiting for his moment," she breathed, in awe of what she had done. She looked at the dagger reverently, like it was gold in her hands. "The beginning of the end. Arthur's end."

Merlin felt his face grow cold with anger. He was tired of this game. "You know I won't let that happen." He raised his right hand menacingly.

Rather than run away again, Morgana only laughed. "You can't hurt me," she said. She was right, a little voice in the back of his head told him. "So put that skinny little arm down."

And Merlin did. For a second, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She had said it, and so it had to be done. But then he thought for a moment, and realized that it was, in fact, the most unnatural sensation he had ever experienced. He felt how Arthur must have after Merlin had taken away his free will. For the first time, Merlin felt fear.

Merlin looked at the dagger again, and understanding began to dawn on him. That dagger was important. Was she controlling him through it? Everything that had happened thus far seemed to suggest it.

"What have you done to me?" Merlin demanded.

Morgana sneered at him, coming in close and taking his face in her free hand. "Only what you deserve." Her breath was putrid, along with the rest of her. The years had not treated her well.

"And what is that?" Merlin wheedled. He hoped her need to gloat would keep her talking.

"Quiet," she snapped, and Merlin swallowed his disappointment. "I'm tired of your talking."

She paced until another idea struck a few moments later. "And kneel."

Merlin felt his face burn at the humiliation, but did as he was told. He could not fight against her commands, not at the moment. If there was one thing Merlin had learned in his past ten years defending Camelot, it was that he was often exceptional.

He would bide his time, build up the strength and the power. He would succeed.

He _would_ kill Morgana.

Morgana smirked. "So this is the almighty Emrys. Not so mighty now, are you? I've brought you to your knees."

So she _was_ in the gloating mood. Good.

"And I'll bring you down even farther. So far, you won't have anything left to live for. Arthur will be gone and I will be queen, and it will be because of you. You'll be the one to do it, of course. I always thought I would be the one to kill my dear brother, but no. This way, I can watch both your faces as you kill him." She threw back her head and laughed. It made Merlin sick with anger. "Oh, it will be wonderful to watch."

Morgana's wicked smile grew, and she knelt in front of him, now at eye level. Merlin felt the sharp end of the dagger beneath his chin, felt the blood start to drip down his neck. He met Morgana's eyes, his blood boiling with the indignity of it all.

"This dagger," she whispered, her gaze fraught with perverse enjoyment, "has been bound to your magic. With it, I can make you do anything I like."

Merlin's heart stopped. Morgana noticed the look of horror on his face, and her smile widened.

"You _will_ kill Arthur. It will be long, and painful, and there will be nothing you can do to stop it. You _will_ help me take Camelot as my own, and I will take my rightful place at the throne. All you've built, all you've worked to protect, Emrys – it will all come crashing down with you by my side."

Morgana leaned in even closer, her lips brushing against his ear. Merlin fought back a shiver of disgust. "Because I will never let you die. I know you'll want to, after everything I will make you do. But you won't. I want to see your face every day, and see how much you've suffered. You will be my puppet for all of eternity, whether it be to me, or to my children, or my grandchildren ... For I have heard the prophecy, my dear Merlin, and I know the meaning of you true name. Emrys.

" _Immortal_."

She cackled.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm a total flake. I'm sorry._

 _hints of non con near the end_

* * *

 **PART TWO**

Morgana had complete control over Merlin. He couldn't leave her castle now unless she wished it. Locking him up had been unnecessary, and only fueled his anger.

The cell she had brought him to was by far the worst he had ever been in. It was infested with rats and mice, both dead and alive. It was dank, and smelt of mildew and waste. He had the feeling it had been prepared just for him. Merlin sighed, and watched the lucky animals crawl in and out past the open cell door.

She was giving him a taste of freedom. No, Merlin shook his head to himself. The view of a taste of freedom. She was taunting him, laughing at him, making him feel like he had lost. Like there was no way out.

And it was working.

Feeling particularly down on himself, Merlin sighed again and rested his cheek against his numb arm. His wrists were bound with chains Morgana didn't need, and hung uselessly above his head. He tried twitching his fingers, and while they did move, he couldn't feel the motion. For the third time within the minute, Merlin sighed.

What else was there to do in such a situation?

Besides sulk and think about all the ways this could have been avoided.

And there were a _lot_.

Merlin kicked a rat that had begun to nibble at his boot curiously. It skittered away, along with the rest of its friends that had started to get too close.

Could he be eaten to death by rats? Merlin wondered. How far did that whole immortality thing go?

Morgana had only confirmed what Merlin had been suspecting for a long time. Ever since he had survived the Dorocha - an event that should, by all accounts, have been unsurvivable, _no_ exceptions - Merlin had had his suspicions. Gaius had told him it could have just been his magic protecting him, and for a while Merlin had clung to that hope. Immortality was the last thing he wanted, particularly when it came to situations such as these.

Merlin sighed again, and settled in for a long night.

* * *

Morgana kept the dagger on her person at all times. Losing it would be devastating to her plans, and would likely cost her her life. So she kept it in a leather sheath around her waist, touching it every so often to reassure herself that she still had it.

The room she slept in was not the royal chamber she so deserved. It rankled her, made her blood boil with the indignity of it all. For once, she let herself quench the fire with thoughts of her imminent victory over Camelot and Arthur. With Emrys unable to fight against her, there was nothing anyone could do to keep her from the crown.

The dagger was an uncomfortable lump against her side. Morgana turned over to her other side, and closed her eyes.

She had told Merlin he was to be her slave long after she was gone, serving her children and grandchildren and all the descendants that were to follow. Morgana had never needed a man to make her powerful, and rather disliked the thought of needing one now, but the fact remained unchangeable - she needed an heir, and it was impossible to create one without a man's assistance.

Emrys was the most powerful being to ever be, and it was possible he could make her immortal as well. The idea had at first seemed desirable, but after longer ponderings the idea had lost its favor. Death was natural, she decided, and if she could achieve her true destiny, she did not fear its inevitable embrace.

But the problem still stood. She needed an heir.

Even when Morgana had been Uther's ward she had never been courted. She had not even wished it at the time. But now that meant there was no one to help continue her line. But it was of no real consequence. In the end, it didn't matter who the man was. He didn't have to like her, just do what she commanded.

Morgana opened her eyes, and idea striking her like a bolt of lightning.

Yes, she thought, a grin spreading across her lips. Yes, that would work.

That would more than work.

It was all perfect. Morgana laughed to herself softly, happily awaiting what the morning would bring. Darkness enveloped her peacefully, and she slept soundly for the first time in a long time.

* * *

Merlin awoke stiffly. His muscles were sore like he had just taken another beating at a training session with the knights. For a second, Merlin thought that that must have been what had happened. But then he saw the open cell door, and felt the warmth of several rats against his legs, and remembered. He shook his legs in disgust, shooing them away.

Merlin was about to fall asleep again when he felt a tug at his magic. _Come to me_ , said the voice again. _Unlock your chains and come to me_. Merlin's eyes glowed gold, and the chains unlocked. Standing, he teleported into Morgana's chambers.

Morgana sat upon her unmade bed. Everything in the room had a dirty, haphazard look to it, just like the woman it all belonged to. The dagger was out of sight.

"Good morning, Merlin," Morgana greeted, suspiciously civil. "How did you sleep?"

"Terribly," Merlin said dryly.

"Good. When you need your sleep I'll give it to you. But until then, you'll spend your nights in that cell."

So she would not be leading their takeover of Camelot today. That was a relief. He needed time to prepare, to ready himself for the power of the dagger.

He wondered what Arthur and Gwen had made of his absence. Morgana opened her mouth to speak again, and Merlin forced all thoughts of Camelot from his mind. He couldn't afford any distraction, not when the very survival of Camelot and all he had worked toward was at stake.

"I have a problem, Emrys." Morgana began.

"You have many problems, Morgana. I'm glad you're starting to realize that."

"Don't be smart with me," she snarled, her peaceful face turning ugly again. But she quickly calmed herself, which struck Merlin as both odd and disconcerting. She smiled a little to herself, and continued. "I have a problem, and I believe you are the solution." Her small smile widened into a grin, filled with glee and something else Merlin couldn't quite identify. "I knew you'd have your uses, Emrys."

Jaw clenched, Merlin stayed silent.

"Yesterday, I promised you that you would serve my ancestors," she said, standing, "but as you know, my dear warlock, I need a man to make that happen."

Merlin felt his blood grow cold. So this was what it had come to… He felt a shiver run up his spine as Morgana slowly approached, touching his face and running a hand through his hair.

 _DON'T MOVE_ , said the voice. Merlin couldn't even if he wanted.

He felt the soft brush of her lips against his, could taste her breath. He didn't want this.

"I command you, Emrys, to give me my heir."

Unwillingly, Merlin closed the gap between them, and kissed her.

An hour later, it was all over. Merlin was back in his cell, unchained this time (Morgana's own twisted thank-you, he assumed), and still felt stunned at everything that had just transpired. Disgusted, dirty, and stunned.

She wanted him to father her children. Merlin blinked, looking beyond the locked cell door. He likely already had. He felt something creeping up his throat, and hunched over, vomiting all over the already filthy floor.

He had not been prepared for this. This was something else entirely.

If she pulled this whole thing off - and Merlin was going to try his damndest to make sure she wouldn't - he would spend the rest of eternity a slave to not only Morgana's children and grandchildren, but to his own as well.

Another thought struck him. If Merlin was lucky enough to stop Morgana, how could he kill her? How could he let her die, knowing his own child was likely growing inside her? He prayed she wasn't pregnant, but for all he knew Morgana had some sort of fertility potion or spell to make it a certainty.

If she was pregnant, and he killed her, Merlin would never forgive himself. Maybe she was counting on that.

Sliding to the floor, narrowly avoiding the puddle of sick, Merlin buried his face in his hands and cried.

* * *

 _This accidentally became rapey Mergana. Sorry about that. I was trying to think of the most evil thing Morgana to could to Merlin, and this idea came up and wouldn't leave. I kind of want her to win over Camelot now, just to see what would happen with the two of them. Could be interesting, huh?_


End file.
